


In the Dark

by Bulletprccf



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: After Altissa and The Thing on the train., Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-18 01:52:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9360326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bulletprccf/pseuds/Bulletprccf
Summary: Rationality holds no quarter here.Ardyn is to blame.  Ardyn has taken it all--your home, your family, your love--even your best friend.





	

It's almost too much to bear.

Rationally, the Empire is at fault for everything: the loss of your crown, the loss of your throne, the loss of your crystal, the loss of your father, the loss of Ignis's sight--

the loss of Luna.

But rationality holds no quarter here.

Ardyn is to blame.  Ardyn has taken it all--your home, your family, your love,

even your best friend.

Ardyn has taken it all.

_You will not allow it._

A scream of rage is ripped from your throat by the wind that tears past the train.  The primal outburst is shot over the tops of the cars, perhaps to the place where Prompto lies.

You are a blur of motion, a bolt that smites the unholy smirk off Ardyn's face with a solid  _crack_ as his skull connects with the vibrating chrome.  Your gloved hand pins down his throat, stifling that arrogant comment you can just  _feel_ coming.  Cracked nails dig into the skin with terrifying force and yank that disgusting head up before slamming it back down.   _Crack._

"You."  Your voice is a hiss, an echo of the chorus of angry daemons that roil in your soul.  "You--killed Luna--you took Ign--"

There is a glimmer of an insubordinate smile that derails what little sanity you have left.  The dagger buries itself once in his chest before you even realized that you've pulled it from aether.

You may be yelling.  You aren't sure.  You're only aware of the dagger slicing through, in and out,  _in and out._

He must have been dead at least a minute and a half before you thrust in one last time.  The crash comes suddenly, adrenaline evaporating in a burst, taking your weapon with it.

You arms and shirt are covered in blood, and various splatters adorn your neck and face.  The wind whips around you, quickly cooling the warm liquid.

You look down into his face.  The light has left his eyes, and that hedonistic jaw is finally slack.  Only his hair and clothes wave wildly with the moving train.  Finally, he is silent.  What a truly beautiful picture this will make, whenever Prompto comes back.

It's almost too much to bear.

It comes quietly, at first, the euphoria.  It bubbles up like a pleasurable stream and drips out through your lips.

The laughter is insatiable.  The son of a bitch is  _dead._ You are triumphant.  No longer shall this impertinent  _cock_ crow over the loss of your majesty.

You collapse next to the corpse, maniacal grin on your face.  The exhilaration pushes oxygen through your chest with great gulps of air.  Bloodlust lights up your face as the wind rustles your hair.  You should call and tell the others what has just transpired...

You awake with a start to the sound of your phone.  You are facedown and cold on the roof of the train, and your head throbs.  There is no cadaver to greet you, and your arms are painted in only dirt and grease.

You answer the phone.  A voice that is ever calm and collected is speaking.

"Ignis," you manage, and it all comes rushing back.  Ardyn incapacitated you.  His death...

His death was a dream.  That's...impossible.  All of that...was nothing?

It's...almost too much to bear.

**Author's Note:**

> You might notice that the language in this is...suggestive, at best, and purposely so.
> 
> This was spawned from a discussion I happened upon in a Skype chat. Someone liked the Noctis/Ardyn rapeship, and I...well.
> 
> Let's just say this was my thoughts on that subject.


End file.
